


Wrapped Like a Present

by thecurlyginger



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 17:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2199762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecurlyginger/pseuds/thecurlyginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben gives Leslie lingerie for their anniversary. As if it needs anymore explaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrapped Like a Present

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to write about Ben stepping foot in a Victoria's Secret, and this is what ensued. Enjoy!

Getting together, breaking up, and getting back together again has really confused Ben and Leslie in the way of deciding on an anniversary for their relationship. But with the election imminent, Leslie finally comes to the conclusion that they should celebrate the day after the results come out.

“That way, if I win, we can celebrate both! And, if I lose, then you can shower me in gifts and sexy times to make me forget.” That's Leslie, always thinking optimistically.

If there's any one negative aspect about Leslie Knope, it's her proclivity for gift giving. Her Valentine's Day scavenger hunt kept Ben busy the entire day on a fun (albeit stressful) joyride of their relationship. Little things left around the house or on his bedside table when he wakes up remind him of how lucky he is... and how crap he is at reciprocating. The stuffed Li'l Sebastian or Yachter Otter toys have been well received by Leslie, but all of her gestures dwarf his. It's time to step up his game.

After consulting with Ann, Ben determines Leslie would love practical gifts the most. That way, she'll use them and think of him often. However, that's the extent of Ann's help, as she has no idea what Leslie would use that she doesn't already have.

“Maybe someone in Parks will know something she needs for work,” Ann suggests.

Going to the Parks Department, however, would just open up a whole new can of worms. Ron would probably propose a steak dinner, Jerry a pair of socks or trip to Muncie, April a trip to a haunted manor, Andy a football jersey and/or emeralds, and Tom an extravagant trip to the spa. Donna, however, seems to be nonchalant about all things not regarding her Benz _and_ is oddly observant. Ben subsequently goes to her, wincing as he does so.

“What's up, Wyatt?” Donna asks from behind her desk, audio of a pop song blasting through her ear buds and a fancy latte drink within reaching distance.

Ben clears his throat. “I need to buy a gift for Leslie for our sort-of one-year anniversary. She likes things that are practical, but I also want it to be something a little special, you know?”

“Lingerie,” she replies instantly.

“Good _lord_ ,” Ben says, eyes bulging. “But I don't-- I've never--”

Donna sighs, smiling slightly at his innocence. “Look, ladies _love_ lingerie gifts. Makes you seem like you think about those kinds of things, and that's hot. Just find her sizes and go to Victoria's Secret. Guys go there all the time. You might wanna try the one in Eagleton; they'll have smaller sizes than the one in Pawnee.”

“Thanks, Donna,” Ben says earnestly.

As he walks away, she calls, “Don't get any of that slave Leia shit. Keep that one in your head.” Hurrying away so no one else can make any comments alluding to what may or may not be really hot on Leslie and fulfill a teenage fantasy, Ben brushes the idea aside.

He may entertain it once. But only once.

Ben sneaks to the Plaza Eagleton during one of Leslie's Parks meetings that she refuses to miss. The Victoria's Secret isn't hard to find, all black and pink signage and interior. It looks sleek and daunting. Having memorized Leslie's bra and underwear sizes, he takes a deep breath and walks in.

There's no rhyme or reason to the organization, just a lot of bras and panties hanging up and in weird drawers. What's worse is that the entire clientele in the store at this moment are women. No one pays him any mind, but he can't help the feeling that all eyes are on him, judging.

Perhaps he looks as lost and helpless as he feels, because a kind-looking saleswoman approaches him. “Welcome to Victoria's Secret. Do you need help finding anything today?”

Words suddenly escape Ben.

“Yeah, I-- Do you, uh-- Hmm... I'm just--”

He rushes out, leaving the saleswoman confused.

Damn damn damn.

It takes a search for other Victoria's Secret stores in the area for Ben to realize that, yeah, he should have just Googled the store and seen that their entire catalogue is available for online purchase.

That could have saved him some embarrassment.

Having thousands of choices before him, Ben's left to think about what color Leslie would look best in. While she has sexy, matching underwear, he thinks she looks perfectly fine in a beige bra and underwear with flowers or pineapples or whatever other designs she has. Really, Leslie looks sexy in underwear. Or naked. But he can't give her the gift of nudity.

The bustier is a foreign thing to him until he clicks the link and becomes _very_ interested. But it also looks like a lot of work to just be taken off in the ten seconds Ben will be able to last until he needs to see her naked. Maybe he'll drop hints about the garment in the future.

Instead, he settles on a red and black bra and panty set with the be-all, end-all of his professional fantasies: the garter belt and thigh-high stockings. There's just something infinitely sexy to Ben about seeing Leslie's skirt hiked just so that he can see the lacy tops of the stockings end and the soft flesh of the upper thighs begin. Not that Ben has actually seen it in person, but rather it's a fantasy he had before they started dating... and after they broke up... and it's in the back of his head for whenever, really. Imagining Leslie's creamy thighs and where they meet her hips is enticing. He's getting flustered just thinking about it, so he adds the black belt and thigh-highs to his shopping cart and checks out. Ben feels a little guilty that this gift for her is essentially a gift for himself, but he hopes that Leslie will interpret it as about her looking sexy and confident. Most importantly, she should think it's practical enough to wear again. And again.

And again.

It takes five business days for the package to arrive, and Ben tracks the damn thing on his computer so he can be present when the delivery man shows up to the door and hide it swiftly before Andy, April, or worse Leslie, can see. Then it's another two weeks before election day and a startling job offer that he takes after Leslie's insistence before she wins the election, they drink to celebrate, and then go home to sleep for at least seven hours for the first time in months.

Ben worried before that if Leslie lost, their anniversary would not simply make her sadness go away, despite his presents or love making. Now that he's leaving tomorrow, he's afraid of _that_ reality muddying up their relaxing, celebratory day when he wakes up. But Leslie shifts closer to him in her sleep, so Ben tries to ignore any negative thoughts for the near future.

Once they're both finally up, Ben makes waffles for her (“We're not leaving this house unless it's part of your present”), and when he goes to hand her a plate with a waffle-to-whipped cream ratio of 20/80, he finds Leslie trailing a suitcase behind her.

“One of your gifts is that I packed nearly everything for you. You've got toiletries taken from what you keep here, enough clean socks and underwear for two weeks – so you better do laundry – and the nice pants and shirts you keep here. All that's left is what you need from your house and you're set to go,” she finishes, beaming.

Ben puts her plate on the table and kisses her soundly. “When did you have a chance to do this?”

“I woke up early from my campaign sleep schedule and put it all together before you woke up. I promise I fell back asleep, though.”

Still in her pajamas, Leslie follows him into the kitchen to bring in two coffees while he brings in his plate and the syrup. It's a picturesque breakfast; they're laughing and grinning, still so thrilled for her victory. With the packing out of the way, it allows them freedom from thinking too closely about the months they'll be apart.

They spend the day relaxing on the couch in unrestrictive, casual clothing, watching movies and just talking about anything other than the campaign for the first time in what feels like forever. Ben's a little nervous, unsure of when a good time to present her gift would be. In the middle of the day seems a little presumptuous, but in the evening feels like an after note, like it's not special to the occasion. Resolving to just get it over with, Ben excuses himself to use the restroom and darts to her bedroom, reaching to where he's hidden the lingerie with his things her her closet, specifically where he keeps his multivitamins. Leslie would never look there.

Placing each piece on her side of the bed, laying them out top to bottom, Ben thinks this way will seem more sexy than any words he could muster regarding lingerie. Now, all he has to do is wait until Leslie goes back to the bedroom and makes a comment about it.

Maybe the bedroom was a bad idea, Ben reasons, because it's nearly dinner time, and she hasn't made any inclination of a gift. After a candlelit meal enjoyed with the rest of the house lights off, soft conversation flowing as freely as the bottle of wine they share, Leslie guides him back to the couch to present her gift. She pulls out a frame and hands it to him, eyes bright and crinkling.

“This is the one-year anniversary of our relationship, but it's been two years since you came to Pawnee and started any sort of relationship with me, even if it was a loathing, working one back then. This is the first document we both signed, the first of the work we would do together,” Leslie says in a near whisper.

The document is the Parks and Recreation Department budget they slaved over all summer. In retrospect, Ben can say that he thought she was cute and thoughtful even then when she fought like a firecracker against him and his cuts. No matter what they thought of each other then, this framed page memorializes the fact that they worked _together_ toward something, a touching start for the future they've paved for themselves.

With glistening eyes, Ben says, “Thank you,” before leaning in to kiss her. “God, I love you so much,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to her cheeks, her forehead, and her nose.

Wordlessly, Leslie gets up and holds a hand out for him, her intentions clear by the seductive look in her eyes. They're going to the bedroom.

Ben's mind races, partially from the wine, but mostly from worrying about her reaction. His gift is certainly no framed document that tells the beginning of their relationship; will Leslie appreciate it less? When they walk into the room, she flicks the switch on, and Ben looks immediately to the bed.

It's gone. The lingerie is _gone_.

Turning back to Leslie, he sees her eyebrow quirked, the corner of her mouth turned upward. She pushes him back, his knees hitting the mattress and willing him to sit. Then, with agonizing slowness, Leslie pulls her shirt off over her head, revealing the red bra with black lace. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, she trails them toward the middle and undoes her button, pulling down the fly while giving him direct eye contact. The jeans are pushed down, and she steps out of them, removing the socks that expertly hid her stockinged feet.

That's it, Leslie's a life ruiner, because she has the gall to stand before Ben in all her red and black lacy wonder, the garter belt holding her stockings up tautly while resting gorgeously against her ass.

“I, uhh... I see you found my gift,” is all Ben can say at this point.

Leslie just giggles in response, walking toward him and pushing his shoulders so that he's down against the mattress. Then she crawls onto bed, straddling him as she kisses him roughly, nipping at his lips and reaching for his hands to put them on her body. They instantly go to her thighs, rubbing the backs of them to feel the contrast of stocking to skin. Then, his hands trail up to her ass and up the bare skin of her back.

At last, he pulls his mouth away from hers to look at her closely. The bra fits perfectly, cupping her pale breasts. Ben gently massages them, rubbing his thumbs over her covered nipples. Leslie moans, her hips grinding against him, shooting more sparks of arousal through his body as if the mere sight of her wasn't enough to make him completely undone.

“I'm honestly surprised you would get me something as _seductive_ as this, Benjamin,” Leslie purrs into his ear. “And it all fits like a glove. Has someone been snooping?”

He nods against her, incapable of speech. She moves to kiss and suck at his neck while she lifts his shirt up, only pulling away to get it over his head before she continues, kissing his chest and running her fingers over the light dusting of hair there. Scooting down his waist, Leslie reaches to remove his pants. Ben's head pushes into the mattress as her fingers not-so-accidentally brush his erection during the process. With minimal work, she's off the bed and pulling the pants legs off, his briefs following shortly after.

Ben leans on his elbows, sitting up and groaning with eyes tightly shut when she all but sits on his erection, sliding her panty-covered mound over him. Her teasing is torturous, and he's had enough. He runs a finger over the fabric of her panties, from her opening up to her clit. Leslie shivers, pushing down on him and trying to writhe against him for release. In awe of how his girlfriend can drive him to points of arousal he's never reached before, Ben reaches his hand under her panties and lubricates a finger with her wetness before rubbing circles around her clit.

Leslie's hips buck against him, and between that and feeling just how wet she is, Ben's teeth grit. He wants nothing more than for her to come in the panties _he_ bought for her, her body clad in what she's wearing for _him_. Judging by her ragged breath and erratic hip thrusts, she's close. Very close. Sliding his other hand under her bra, he pinches her nipple.

“Fuck, Leslie. _Come_. Come for me,” Ben pleads.

With a cry of pleasure, Leslie does, riding it out against his finger until she falls against him and kisses him languidly. Once she pushes herself up on shaky arms, her dark eyes seek his, as she reaches behind to unclasp her bra. Ben stops her by placing his hand on her arm.

“Keep it on, keep all of it on except for those,” he says, indicating to her panties, his voice gravely with need.

Wordlessly, she pulls them down, but they're trapped by the garter belt.

“Oh, I think I need to--”

“Yeah, okay. You do that while I--”

“Mkay.”

Leslie unclasps the straps holding up her stockings while Ben turns around to grab a condom. As he slides it on, she comes back to bed, everything back in its place. She's like a perfectly wrapped present, all of her straps the ribbon and her body a glorious gift. With one swift maneuver, Leslie lowers herself onto him, and as her heat engulfs him, Ben's hands squeeze her thighs.

She rides him, slowly at first while his fingers trace the lace once more. Her lips are swollen from their earlier kisses, so Ben beckons her down once more. Leslie is flush against his chest, his hips thrusting up into her, as his mouth claims hers. His tongue trails along her lower lip, and she rolls her hips in response.

Like a spark of lightening, her movement flairs white hot heat through him. Ben grabs her hips and flips her into the mattress. The nylon of her stockings scratches his back beautifully as her legs wrap around him. Gripping the headboard, he thrusts deeply, trying to draw out all the pleasure he can before the inevitable happens. From below, Leslie's hands trail his face, his jaw, and his neck. It's sweet and draws him closer to her. She peppers kisses where her hands were, her finger nails gently racking up and down his spine.

“I love you,” Ben gasps out, his breaths short. “You are the sexiest fucking woman on this planet.”

Instinctively, her legs wrap around him tighter and her hips rise a fraction, pushing him in deeper. “I love you too,” she whispers into his ear, “and I _know_ I am.”

Cursing loudly, his orgasm takes him. Only Leslie Knope could sound that sultry and confident one second and then kiss him sweetly the next as he comes down and opens his eyes.

“Happy anniversary?” Ben says questioningly, eliciting a laugh from Leslie.

After he cleans up, he returns to the bedroom to see her in her cotton pajamas, a sharp contrast from the lace that covered her before. Leslie pats the bed beside her, inviting him in. Pulling up his briefs, he climbs under the covers and holds her.

“Thank you for my present,” she mumbles almost inaudibly into her pillow.

“Yeah? You liked it?” Ben asks, earning himself a swat on the arm. “Just making sure,” he argues.

Leslie cuddles closer, clasping her hand in his. “I'll have to keep it close by for our Skype dates.”

Ben's never been happier with his gift giving.


End file.
